Saints for All Occasions

by J. Courtney Sullivan

Motherhood was a physical act as much as an emotional one. It took every part of you.

The moment a woman was born determined so much of who she was allowed to become.

It was amazing that you did not become your grief entirely, and walk around leaking it everywhere. It could lie dormant inside you for days, weeks, years. You could seem a perfectly whole person to everyone you met. Without warning, grief might poke you in the ribs, punch you in the gut, knock the wind out of you. But even then, you seemed just fine. The world went on and on.